


Discords of the Present, Harmonies of the Future

by mcgarrygirl78



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Alternate Universe, Drama, F/M, Family, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-09
Updated: 2014-10-09
Packaged: 2018-02-20 11:03:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2426432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mcgarrygirl78/pseuds/mcgarrygirl78
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was something they needed to share…the pain wasn’t greater for one than it was for the other.  As with everything else in their life together, this would be shared equally.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Discords of the Present, Harmonies of the Future

**Author's Note:**

> This is not part of the **Meant to Be** series but we are in the New England universe. This was written for the alphabet meme and [](http://vc-forever.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://vc-forever.livejournal.com/)**vc_forever** ’s prompt of **F is for faith**. There is much talk of God, faith, and religion in this story though I myself am not that religious. Sam Kassmeyer is though. The title is from a Robert Collyer quote, “ _Faith makes the discords of the present the harmonies of the future_.”

The room was quiet, it was too quiet. His hands were gripping the arm of the chair so tight that his knuckles were white. He was afraid to let go. He was afraid of all of the rage inside of him that he just couldn’t control. Why was this happening to him; what could he do to stop it? Sam closed his eyes, prayed to God, but it didn’t go away. It just wouldn’t go away.

“Sam, I was hoping that you asked for this meeting so you could talk to me.” Reverend Davison said, leaning forward in his chair.

“I'm lost, Reverend.” He whispered, unable to stop the tears that slid down his face. “I'm lost and I can't find my way home. I need to go home.”

“What's happened, son?”

“Why did God take my child? He took my mom, my dad; he almost took my best friend. Why my baby? How could he do that to Jessie? If I did something, he could’ve taken it out on me. He didn’t have to take it out on her.”

“God doesn’t take things out on people, Sam, you know that. He is merciful.”

“Merciful? My child is dead, and he’s merciful.”

“God is awesome and merciful. Jessie is alive. If that pregnancy went to term we might not be able to say that. I know you have that fear…you've expressed it.”

“My mother died in childbirth.” He used one hand to wipe the tears. His face was a mess. The Reverend handed him a box of tissues but he declined.

“I know, son. I was there to pray over her after she got sick.”

“What?” Sam looked at him.

“She didn’t die immediately after Sean was born. It was a day or so; something inside of her body turned on her. There was nothing anyone could do. It happened very quickly. I'm not saying it was your brother’s fault, of course, but sometimes there are things inside of us that we don’t even know are there. Pregnancy and childbirth are gifts from God but that doesn’t mean that bad things don’t happen too.”

Sam didn’t know how to feel. He felt helpless, as Jessie was in Manchester when the cramping and bleeding started. She’d been sick for a few days but was feeling better. She had plans with Desi and didn't want to flake on best friend time again. She assured Sam that she was fine. It turned out she was wrong.

He was so upset when he got the call that Kate Cole had to drive him to Eliot Hospital. When he got there he found out his wife would be OK but their child was dead. The doctors called it spontaneous abortion. Just hearing that made Sam’s heart break and his skin crawl. It was just her nineteenth week of pregnancy; the fetus was not viable.

Not viable, that was his child they were talking about. He could hardly listen as the doctor droned on and on about the many causes, none of which they could say for sure caused it. It happened more than people cared to think. Jessie would recover; have more children if she wanted. She was healthy.

Sam didn’t understand how that doctor, whatever the hell his name was, thought Jessie could just recover from the death of their child. And what about him? No, he wasn’t in that hospital bed but he was hurting too. They patted his back, told him to go and be with his wife.

When Sam went into the room, Desi walked out. He’d known her all of her life but she didn’t speak. She didn’t say hi or bye, didn’t apologize, or touch his hand. He didn’t have the words to express how grateful he was for her at that moment. All he wanted was to hold onto Jessie.

He wanted to make everything OK but he couldn’t do that. So he would hold on and never let go. Even if it still felt like they were an ocean apart in each other’s arms. Jessie cried and cried. She cried all night and cried more when Sam got her home.

He couldn’t break down…had to be strong for her. They didn’t talk, didn’t share, didn’t do anything but go through the days in a haze. She couldn’t deal with Michael, who was just 14 months old. Sam tried but it was too much. When the baby cried, Jessie cried.

She couldn’t comfort him, hold him, and attend to him. As much as he hated it, he asked her parents to look after him, just for a little while. They needed to get to the other side of this and Sam wasn’t sure just how they were going to do that. A while turned into three weeks. Sam missed his son terribly, wanted to hold onto him during this tough time. He was surprised to come home one evening and see a naked streak running toward him.

“Dada! Dada!” Michael squealed, holding out his arms.

“Mickey!” Sam scooped him up in his arms and held him close. He couldn’t help but inhale the scent of his skin. Michael always smelled like his mother and talcum powder. “Hey buddy, I missed you so much.” the tears were inevitable…they were part of Sam now.

“I think he might need this.”

Jessie came into the living room carrying a diaper. She wore something resembling a smile at the sight of her husband holding their son. Sam did the same when he saw it. He held out his free arm; Jessie let him embrace her. They both exhaled.

“Hey baby.” Sam kissed her forehead.

“Hey.” She took Michael from his arms. “I should probably get him covered before he sprays everywhere.”

“Been there, done that. I'm so glad to see him. I shouldn’t have let him stay away for so long.”

“I missed him too. He’s my little boy, our little boy, and we need to take care of him. Having him back will be good for us.”

Sam agreed, but it wasn’t that easy. Deep down he knew that but didn’t know how to say it. It was better to focus on the positive. The positive was that Mickey was home. Both Sam and Jessie put all of their focus on that instead of the hole in their hearts. Sam went to work everyday and Jessie tried to write.

After a while, the other cops stopped asking him how he was doing. He worked, came home, did a few volunteer projects, and got even less sleep than before. The doctor prescribed him something to help…sleepy cops weren't a good idea. Jessie encouraged Sam to take it so he did. It helped but the sleep wasn’t always restful. He was turned inside out, and that’s what led to Reverend Davison.

Sam had prayed. He prayed and prayed and prayed. He asked for strength, guidance, and the power of forgiveness. He prayed to have the horrible memory stricken from his memory and Jessie’s too. He prayed to feel something other than tired and helpless.

The numbness couldn’t last forever and Sam feared the simmering rage underneath. He needed to get it out; reach it in a safe capacity. God didn’t seem to have any answers for him. For the first time in his life, Sam wondered if he ever had.

“I need to go home Reverend.” Sam repeated. This time he did take the tissue he was offered. He also drank some of the tea in front of him.

“Do you mean spiritually or literally?”

“Both. I need to reach God and my wife because they keep me from falling in the dark holes. When I was a kid, Reverend Clifton always told me that God sends angels to look after us. Jessie is my angel. I wasn’t able to help her, to save our baby, and I don’t know what to do about that.”

“Have you two talked about it?” the Reverend asked.

“It happened seven weeks ago and we've never discussed it. Time is moving, seasons are changing, and we talk. We talk everyday but I can't tell you what we talk about. It’s like we try to talk about anything but what happened. But it’s killing me, Reverend. I'm disconnected from my wife and that’s not the way we do things. Jessie and I stick together, in good times and bad.”

“What do you want to say to her? It’s been almost two months; I'm sure you have some idea.”

“Actually, I don’t.” Sam shook his head. “I think I've buried the thoughts and feelings so deep I don’t know if I can reach them. I want to apologize for not being able to fix things. I’m sorry that I'm inarticulate and can't comfort her. I'm sorry something like this had to happen to us.

“A part of me wants everything to go back to normal but I know that it can't. So I want to make sure we move on together. I want to hold onto Jessie and never let go. I want our faith to sustain us. I could never hate God, Reverend. I just wish I knew what his plan was. Why did we have to go through this?”

“God loves you Sam; you are one of his most faithful servants. He has given you many blessings, many tasks, and many trials. You will remain strong as long as your love for him and faith in him does. I think part of the reason you're so upset is this disconnect from Jessie. When you two open up to each other about your feelings, it'll make you feel better.”

“What if I don’t know what to say?” Sam asked.

“She loves you…she just wants your words. She wants to share hers as well. No one is perfect; it’s OK not to have a prepared speech. Take a deep breath, speak, and hold onto her. Pray together, if that’s something you normally do.”

“Jessie isn’t as strong in the faith as I am, Reverend. She’s a believer but our levels of faith are different.”

“You will get through this with each other. You mustn’t let this tragedy tear you apart. God’s love brought you together.”

“Yeah.” Sam nodded, taking a deep breath. “I need to go home. This time I'm being literal.”

“Alright.” Reverend Davison stood and so did Sam. “I'm glad you came to speak with me, son. I knew this was weighing on you. My door is always open.”

“Thank you.”

Sam shook his hand and headed for the parking lot. It was drizzling; the rain was cold. Sam climbed into the Mustang, taking another deep breath before putting the key in the ignition. The car purred like it always did. Then he cut the engine.

His hands gripped the steering wheel; he closed his eyes. It was time to talk to God again. He needed help and wasn’t afraid to ask. He would do whatever he needed to do to take care of himself and his family. Sam would be strong but he needed support. He prayed for a long time and then drove home.

***

“Penny for your thoughts.”

Jessie came up behind her husband. She ran her hands over his naked back before wrapping her arms around his waist. Then she kissed the special spot between Sam’s shoulder blades. It always made him shudder; tonight was no different.

“I've been trying for a week to gather the words and the wherewithal to have a conversation.” Sam replied. “I've wimped out more times than I care to tell you.”

“You are not a wimp, Sam Kassmeyer.”

“I'm so sorry, Jess. I'm so sorry that we lost the baby. We were making plans and it just didn’t seem like something that should ever cross our minds. And then you were lying in a hospital bed.”

“Yeah.” she kissed his back again.

“Baby, I just,” he turned around and held her close. “I want to make everything OK but I have no idea how.”

“You can't.” Jessie shook her head. “We just have to move on from this place. I feel like I'm in some kind of limbo. It’s been two months, I don’t expect to just jump up and feel better. But I miss you.” her voice cracked.

“I'm here.” He hugged her tight and didn’t care when the tears came. “Anything you wanna say, do, hear, express, or scream, just do it baby; I'm here.”

Jessie cried. She cried and Sam held onto her. He cried as well and it was the first time they'd cried together since that night at Eliot Hospital. It was something they needed to share…the pain wasn’t greater for one than it was for the other. As with everything else in their life together, this would be shared equally.

“I love you so much.” Jessie sobbed. “I thought you blamed me, at first, but then…”

“Jessie, I would never, ever do something like that. This was not your fault.”

“I know.” She caressed his face. “And I know you didn’t. It didn’t take long to see that you were just lost. I wanted to reach out to you but I didn’t know how. I asked Hotch to talk to you; I asked my dad too. I wanted to be the one but I knew that you needed time. For what, I wasn’t sure, but I wanted to give it you. I probably should've said something sooner.”

“I didn’t want to send Michael away; I didn’t want to break up our family. But I didn’t know just how much pain you were in. I didn’t want you to hurt him by accident.”

“I had the same fear. Then I woke up one morning and I couldn’t be without him. He’s here. I lost one baby but Michael is here. He will always be a joy for me, not a burden or something to cry about. I just want to be a family.”

“We are a family, baby. We suffered a tragedy but together, in love and faith, we can move on. I'm no good if I don’t have you, Jess.”

“I feel the same way. I wish we could snap our fingers and be normal again.”

“What's normal?” Sam asked. “We’ll make our own normal; you and me. It’s always gonna be you and me.”

Jessie nodded, hugging him tight. She never planned to let him go and knew he felt the same way.

“We should probably go to bed.” she said. “Do you think you're gonna sleep tonight?”

“I have a feeling this might be the best sleep I've had in months.”

Sam managed a smile as they slipped under the blankets. It felt so good to hold her in his arms. There were nights where they didn’t hold each other; those nights were tough. Tonight Jessie kissed him and cuddled close just like she used to.

“Jess?”

“Hmm?”

“Do you think we could maybe…pray together?”

“Yes.”

“OK.”

“Now?”

“Yeah; I always say my prayers before bed.”

“OK.”

Sam cleared his throat. He probably hadn't prayed aloud since he was a little boy. He and his dad used to kneel by his bedside to talk to God. They did that until Sam was 13 years old. Then his father thought he was man enough to talk to God alone.

“Dear God, thank you for this day. Thank you for blessing us with each other and our beautiful son. Continue to bestow upon us your blessings. And if you see fit to give us trials, which are your will, just let us remember to hold onto each other. God, look after the people we love, our town, and people in places we can't even imagine tonight. Continue to bless us, keep us, and remind us that you make miracles and show mercy everyday. In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit; amen.”

“Amen.” Jessie repeated.

They fell asleep in each other’s arms, peaceful for the first time in months. They would always have God and each other. This time would pass and more good times would come. When they did, Sam and Jessie would be together to enjoy them. The bad times would only make the good times better, they both believed that. Belief was what they had right now. They had belief and each other.

***

  



End file.
